Cheap Booze and Hotel Rooms
by Synthesis Landale
Summary: SnakeOtacon. After Shadow Moses, Snake tries to live a quiet life with Meryl and Otacon goes to New York to start up Philanthropy. However, things don't turn out as planned and Snake and Otacon discover that the bond they forged in Shadow Moses was strong


_Cheap Booze and Hotel Rooms_

Otacon stood outside the bombed out facility of Shadow Moses, cold and lonely, waiting for the helicopter to extract him. At least he hoped there would be a helicopter. Snake had promised that somebody would come pick him up; somehow he'd assumed this would mean the Army would fly over and throw a rope to him, get him out of this god-forsaken place, take him to somewhere where it was _warm._

Snake was long gone; he'd rescued the girl, saved the day, and ridden off on a snowmobile into the sunset with her. Otacon had seen them go when he emerged from the facility in another military vehicle that had been left behind. He'd gotten out of the thing; it smelled like death, and he stood at the edge of the cliff, hobbling on his bad ankle, watching them go.

He was weary and cold, and felt himself slipping off into sleep a few times. He would have stayed inside, but Snake had warned him that the military were coming to destroy the evidence, and so he left and got to what he hoped was a safe enough distance, but close enough to be spotted and rescued.

Eventually the promised helicopter did arrive, and whisked him away. He was so tired that everything just went by in a half-awake blur; he was taken to a military base, threatened, debriefed, and finally forced to sign a document swearing him to secrecy. After they were satisfied that he would pose no threat to them, they returned his laptop, freshly reformatted (Otacon lamented the loss of his fansubbed anime), and gave him a civilian suit and a plane ticket to New York. He knew the drill; build a new life, put Shadow Moses behind him, and speak of it to nobody. He could agree to those terms; Shadow Moses was not something he wanted to talk about with _anybody_. Except for maybe the one person who had shared the experience with him, but he was far away now, living another life, having the quintessential happy ending.

Or was he? Otacon supposed that even if Snake did find long-term happiness with Meryl, the specter of Shadow Moses would haunt his life. But he had Meryl, didn't he, and she had been there with him even more than Otacon had. He'd just pissed his pants, injured his ankle and been left behind, while she had been there with him, in the action, until she'd been shot and taken captive. Then Snake had endured torture for her life. That had to leave an unbreakable bond. Otacon was just the spare part, the one left behind.

He had to find a way to do the mundane things again, to go to the store and buy a bottle of milk after the enormity of what had happened. A nuclear missile had nearly been launched, for god's sake. A dead man had come back to life in the form of a cyborg and returned to his death underneath the foot of Otacon's own creation, the Metal Gear Rex. Sniper Wolf, who he had felt sympathy for, empathy with and love for had died in front of him, and he hadn't been able to say anything of comfort to her, hadn't been able to protect her. Snake had been able to protect the woman he loved, and now he wasn't alone. But Otacon knew he could never be Snake, no matter how much he wanted to be able to turn back the clock and protect Wolf. He had brains, not brawn. He could only ever have been the backup, the sidekick in the shadows.

He really hated feeling sorry for himself, but it was all he had, he lamented, as he sank into the cozy hotel room bed. He had a view over New York, plenty of money in the bank ("we'll give you this money on condition you _never_ disclose the Metal Gear research to anybody"), and the thoughts beating around inside his head, hammering at his temples, longing to get out.

He thought it might drive him mad, before long, unless he did something about it.

Snake was in fact not having a good time. It had started off promisingly enough; he had forged a deep bond with Meryl Silverburgh, and carried her home to his cabin on his "horse" (well, snowmobile, but he felt the hero at that moment). She had been impressed by the simple life he led, and she loved his Huskies, which was always a good sign, and they liked her, which was an even better one.

The problem was she just would _not__stop talking_ about Shadow Moses.

He had tolerated it at first; perhaps, he thought, this was her way of coping with the ordeal, that when she had talked about it enough she would be sated and shut up about it. He tried everything to distract her from the subject; sex, other subjects and finally, the stash of hard liquor he had stocked up on. He knew it was stupid, he knew he was worthless when drunk, a real loser who used violence to get across his point, but he only found himself more frustrated when she fought back, like a cornered tiger.

He loved her, but he wanted her to _go away_; at least until she could come to terms with it. Her constant revisiting of their ordeal made his nightmares and flashbacks intensify until he felt the only way he could continue with his life was by drinking far too much; he even considered going out onto the porch and putting a gun into his mouth, like the fate of many a soldier. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, the doctors called it, but he didn't care for their attitude and their Meryl-like attitude of _talking about it makes it better_. It didn't work for him, but she still kept trying, she kept saying that she wanted to get through to him, to understand what he was feeling but Snake didn't want to talk about how he was feeling. He wanted to forget about it.

Sometimes, when he wasn't in a stupor, he would think about Otacon and wonder how he was doing. He didn't even know if he had been rescued and regretted riding off into the sunset with Meryl without making sure he was all right. He had hoped that Otacon might use the codec before they were out of range to contact him and say he had been rescued, but he hadn't. Then he would berate himself for thinking about Shadow Moses again, yet he knew he couldn't get away from it. It permeated every aspect of his life. He couldn't even get away from it by going out on the sledge with the dogs, something which had always cleared his head before. He knew that it wasn't really Meryl's fault, that she just had a different way of coping than he did, but he was still full of resentment and pain and hatred that he could not find a way to express adequately.

He wanted to do something about it, and considered trying to find Otacon, but knew he could be anywhere. They didn't exactly exchange phone numbers upon leaving. Besides, he thought that Otacon might be even worse than Meryl, but he doubted it somehow; Otacon could whine, sure, but most of that was superficial and the deepest pains he carried deep inside, and bore them alone. Snake had known that from the way he'd held his shoulders in perpetual slump, resigned to a life of permanent sorrow and failure. The world had not been kind to Otacon, just as it had not been kind to Solid Snake. The worst part was, they were where they were because of their choices. Otacon had made a bad decision in developing Metal Gear, had been naïve about the ambitions and machinations of the military. Snake had joined the military in the first place, and given his soul over to taking orders and killing people for his government, a life that was not his to lead, where all the decisions were taken for him.

He stood out on the porch that night, after a blazing row with Meryl, and contemplated putting the gun in his mouth and ending it all, and not for the first time.

The only thing that kept him alive was the thought that out there, somewhere, there was a man who was probably even worse off than he was, bearing his sorrow silently, trying to make life work, and while Otacon was still trying, Snake knew he had to try as well.

Every month or so, Snake would go into the local town to pick up supplies. The local people knew of the hermit who lived out in a cabin and asked no questions of him; for if a man could not build a hermitage in the icy tundra of Alaska, where could he go to be alone? They understood that and let him be, selling him produce, saving up his mail, and most of all, engaging in chit-chat with him as though he were any other person. Snake only responded with grunts most of the time, but deep down he appreciated these people and their friendly smiles and mundane manner. It reminded him that there was a world out there, ticking by even as he wasted his time drinking. But it was not his world. He could not do the things that everybody else did, could not live the life that everybody else had. He just saved it for them now and then, on orders from the government, and went back to living his imitation happy ending.

He flipped through the mail with little interest. He let out a snort as he found a piece of junk mail, a promotional postcard offering money off hotels in New York. Even out here, they still bothered him with this crap. He was about to toss it out when he noticed some handwritten scrawl on the back.

_S – I know you're out there. Come to this hotel, you know my name._

He instantly thought it was a trap, as his suspicious mind did, yet there was something about that scrawl that seemed very Otacon to him. He didn't make clear any intentions, didn't offer any hook. How did he knew he would get it? Was it a shot in the dark to try and find him? How many villages across Alaska had he sent the card to? Most of all, what did he want? Snake had had enough of being a shoulder to cry on. If all Otacon wanted was to sit down and talk about those "good old times", Snake was not up for it. But he had no way of knowing unless he went. He thought about the worst scenario, the possibility of a trap. Well, if it was, he could commit suicide any time. It was better than doing it in the icy wastes out here and having Meryl breathe that tiny sigh of relief over his body even as she cried. If Otacon wanted to whine about Shadow Moses, Snake could turn around and go right back to Alaska. His military pension paid enough that a return flight and a hotel room wouldn't take much; Meryl could spend some much needed time alone and ponder on what she wanted to do with their relationship, and he could get away for a while. It was a win-win situation.

He had hidden the card from Meryl and told her he was going to New York for a few days to think things over.

"That's a bit sudden," Meryl asked suspiciously, "What's happened?"

"Nothing's happened," Snake said, "I just need to pull myself together. I'm not doing either of us any good sitting out here getting drunk." He knew truer words had never been spoken, and he saw Meryl relax a bit as she ate them up and cast aside her worries.

"I guess... you just need to go, huh?" she said, "Well, I won't stop you then. When do you intend to leave?"

"Right away," Snake said, "I've left it long enough, I think."

The flight was the usual kind; boring, boring and more boring. Snake had bought a novel at one of the airport bookstores but hadn't been able to concentrate on it. Nor could he think about where he was going; whether Otacon was really there or whether armed men would be waiting for him in the room of 'Hal Emmerich'. Nor could he sleep, as he would be sure to dream and wake up screaming, distracting everyone on the flight and drawing undue attention to himself. So he sat still, as he had sometimes had to do for hours on end, waiting for guards to change shifts. Time seemed to change for him as he sat there, and soon enough he found himself sitting in a taxi headed for the hotel. Then he was there, asking for the room of Hal Emmerich, and getting a suspicious look from the girl behind the counter. Her suspicion unnerved him until curiosity got the better of her and she asked what relation Hal was to him; then he almost – almost – laughed as he realized she imagined they were meeting up for sex.

"He's a good friend of mine," Snake said, leaving it ambiguous on purpose. Let her think what she wanted, it would only leave a false trail for anybody who came here looking for them. She wouldn't think it was the boyfriends in room 515 they were looking for, and that suited him just fine.

He felt almost nervous as he knocked on the door, but the familiar voice calling out "coming!" eased his nerves, and he relaxed as the door opened and Otacon gave him a look of surprise.

"So you did get the card?" Otacon asked, ushering Snake in, "I'm afraid to say I used a few... connections to get hold of your address."

"Let's see, you somehow tracked down the Colonel and begged and whined until he gave it to you?" Snake said dryly.

"Nope!" Otacon said, "I've been brushing up on my hacking skills. Seems the Department of Defense keeps your address handy, just in case. Took me a while to get it and I was nearly spotted, but that doesn't matter. I got what I needed, and here you are."

"Now do you care to tell me exactly what you got me out here for?" Snake asked, and Otacon faltered, his face falling.

"I... I don't really know, Snake," Otacon said, "I did want to tell you about my idea, but... I don't know. I think... I think I just wanted to see you again."

"You got me all the way out here for that?" Snake bemoaned bitterly, "You better have something to drink. Then I'll hear this half-baked plan of yours and book myself on tomorrow's plane back to Alaska."

"Snake..." Otacon said, "Please, hear me out. I told you I've been hacking into the DoD, right? Well, I unearthed some interesting information... It seems there are other Metal Gears in production, all around the world. Somebody leaked the information after Shadow Moses."

"What does that have to do with me?" Snake asked gruffly, "I'm retired, leave me out of this. If the government calls upon me then I'll have to go, I'm obliged, but I don't have any obligation to you. I'm glad you survived Moses and everything, but I just want to be left alone and the last fucking thing I want to do right now is think about Metal Gears." He turned away from Otacon and made for the door.

"Yeah, you're retired," Otacon said, "You rode off into the sunset with your woman and had the happy ending. Except it hasn't been so happy for you, has it? Things can never be the same for us, not after Shadow Moses. It changed us. Now we know things that no person should ever have to know, things that we can't get away from. We can't keep running, Snake. We know about Metal Gear and that makes us the only ones who can fight it! We have a responsibility..."

"Fuck responsibility!" Snake yelled, banging his fist down hard on the dresser, "I'm sick of hearing about Shadow Moses! It's all she ever talks about! I came here because I hoped you might have something else to say, something else to offer me, but no! You want to take me back there, too. Well fuck both of you, because I'm moving on from this crap."

"Like hell you are," Otacon said, "Your breath smells of alcohol, you can't even walk straight, and I'll bet you can't get to sleep at night because of the nightmares. Nightmares like I have, of dead men in exoskeletons and nuclear holocausts, of blood and death. We can't escape this fate, Snake. And while we're stuck with this, we might as well accept it and face it. When I first came here, I felt sorry for myself too. Everything about my life has been changed forever. The way I control it is by doing something about it. I'm gathering information on Metal Gears and am using my influence with Mei Ling and others to try and get U.N funding for an anti-Metal Gear organization which will consist of a few people who covertly strike at Metal Gear projects around the world. I have a few people on board, but I need you, Snake. I have plenty of intel, but we need someone to carry out the missions, to be our man on the ground. You're the only person who can do this, Snake."

"Forget it," said Snake, "Find someone else for your do-gooder society. I'm out."

"Fine then," replied Otacon, "Go home and feel sorry for yourself. You know, you were lucky Meryl wasn't killed in Shadow Moses!"

Snake launched at Otacon and punched him hard in the face, sending him spiraling backward, blood rushing from his nose, his body falling to the floor. Snake saw it all in slow motion, as a flashback came to him of Otacon trembling in the corner, pissing himself with fear, helpless and frightened for his life. Otacon, asking him if love, of all things, could bloom in a place as cold as a battlefield. Otacon crying for Sniper Wolf, a woman he had loved in his own way even though she had never shown him a shred of her affection. Yet he had reeled back from all that, had stood up with determination and said he wasn't going to cry any more tears. Here again was that fire, burning inside him, making him a much better man then Snake was because he was willing to face his darkest fears and do something with his knowledge to make the world better.

Snake saw himself then, as if for the first time. His soul was battered, ravaged, gone. The demon drink ruled his actions and made him lash out at the people he cared about because they made him feel that awful pain, and he just wanted it to stop, to go away, wanted the flashbacks and nightmares to leave him alone.

Otacon sat up on the floor, and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his long sleeved t-shirt. He seemed dazed and disorientated, as though he had expected any other outcome than this. Snake went to him then, helped him up, and Otacon took his hand shakily, wondering if it might bite, or whether he was just being helped up to be knocked down again.

They stood for a long while in silence, not knowing what to say to each other. Finally, Snake broke the silence.

"You're a better man than I am, Hal," he said, "You have courage. I'm just a coward and a killer."

"That's not true," Otacon said, "I wouldn't have invited you here if it was. The fact is, in Shadow Moses you fought for a cause. You fought for Meryl, you fought for Grey Fox and you showed respect even to your enemies... even to Wolf. You got the job done not just because it was an order, but because you believed in what you were fighting for."

"That wasn't me," Snake said, "That's an image of me that you hold because you idiolize me. I killed my best friend again. I killed people on the battlefield. I fought for Meryl, but where did that get me? She drives me insane by talking about Shadow Moses non-stop, and every day I think the story turns a little more from the hellhole it was to being some kind of great adventure we shared together. I can't give her the life she needs. I don't think I even want to. I've been trying to make her leave but she won't go..."

"Sit down," Otacon said, moving over to mini-bar where he pulled out a bottle of vodka and poured them each a shot, "I think we could both use this," he said, and Snake took his and knocked it straight back, savoring the burn as it went down. He put down his glass for another, and Otacon filled it. He drank that and returned it, but Otacon shook his head sadly and put the bottle away.

"That's enough," he said softly, "I just wanted to make you feel at ease, not get you completely drunk. I don't need another blow from you, thanks."

"I don't know, Hal," Snake said, "I don't know if I'm cut out for this, if I can go back to the battlefield again. I just wanted to live a quiet life where nobody could find me, but it seems I'll never have any peace. If it's not you, then it'll be the military again, if what you say is true."

"Don't join me because you feel you have to," Otacon replied, "Join because you believe the cause is just."

Snake lay back on the bed, the alcohol making his senses fuzzy, "I'll have to... think about it," he said.

"Take your time," Otacon said, "But no more of this, hmm?" He gestured to his nose, "It hurts."

"You're such a wimp," Snake said, "But I couldn't have done it without you. You know... Shadow Moses. That place was so desolate. It felt like we were the only people in the world at the time... you, me, Meryl and our enemies, and the Colonel and his company, although they felt so distant. When Meryl was shot and taken prisoner, I lost hope, but you were still there, hiding in the shadows, helping me out. If you hadn't told me Rex's weak point, none of us would have left there alive."

"That's because I designed it!" said Otacon, climbing up to sit on the bed next to Snake. He didn't trust his legs to take him to the chair. "That's why I have to do this, Snake. The reason more Metal Gears are being produced is because my plans are out there. If I just sit here and do nothing, try and live a normal and mundane life, I'll kill myself with the guilt."

"I have no such guilt," Snake said, "So why me? There's a million other people you could hire, you just have to pick up Soldier of Fortune and there you are."

"But they won't believe in what we're doing," Otacon said, "and besides, Snake... I trust you. In Shadow Moses, many other soldiers would have dismissed me or even shot me for working with the enemy..."

"They would have been stupid," Snake said, "You were useful, and besides, you were unarmed and cowering in a locker. Any soldier who would have shot you wouldn't have been worth the price of his uniform."

"So Snake," Otacon said, "Why is it that you don't mind us talking about Shadow Moses, but with Meryl it drives you up the wall?" He was getting bold now, the alcohol making him express the first things that came to mind.

Snake hesitated a few moments, and then, "Whenever she talks about Shadow Moses.. it's as if she wants something from me. That she wants me to rewrite the story for her, make it less harrowing, less tragic, more about the "great hero" Snake that rescued her. She's twisted it into something it's not, and so, I never get to talk about how it _really_ was. But you know how it was. You know it was bloody and brutal and horrific, that I killed people, that I saw my best friend squashed by Rex, that I killed Wolf even as I sympathized with her, that I ended my own brother's life and took with me into that place a virus that killed many innocent victims of that debacle. I was used, Otacon, used by Campbell and the government to take that virus in, but that's something Meryl will never be able to understand, because Campbell is her uncle. To her it will slowly become transformed into a story about how he sent in a heroic man to rescue her and save the day. Never mind that if she died, I would have grieved, but still finished the job and got out of there, probably taking you with me as I should have done."

"Snake..." Otacon said. Had Snake really been unable to express all this for all this time? He knew it must have been a huge burden on him, because it was the same burden he carried every day, and sitting beside him was the only man who truly understood what he had been through.

"I should have done more," Otacon said, "They were torturing you, and all I did was bring you a food and some ketchup. If they'd put me up there, I would have told them anything they wanted to know."

"That ketchup saved my life," said Snake, "Also, I was trained to withstand torture. I thought about Meryl and I thought about you, too, and those thoughts kept me from spilling the beans. The fact that people were relying on me to get them out of there safely... I couldn't betray that trust. I thought about it, though. I seriously considered giving up Meryl's life in order to stop the agony, Otacon, and after that, how can I go back to her and hold her and pretend everything's all right?"

"I guess you can't," Otacon said, "Just like I can never return to normal life. I've been changing hotel rooms every now and then, going to stay somewhere else because I don't feel safe any more. I look behind me when I walk down the street, wondering if they might kidnap me to use my knowledge. I wish sometimes that I could forget everything I ever learned about science, because I've never managed to do anything good with it."

"You're doing something good with it now," Snake said, and Otacon felt those strong, warm arms embrace him in a hug. Otacon felt a warm glow inside, and wondered if it was the alcohol, which was making him feel more daring, more open then he'd been with anybody since Shadow Moses. He felt his arms responding, wrapping themselves around his friend... could he call him that now? They had shared a terrible experience together, but had parted ways, and Snake hadn't exactly been over the moon to see him... Yet here he was, being held in a warm embrace. Yes, Snake was a friend, Otacon had always considered him a friend, and always would. His head rested on Snake's chest, where the reassuring beat of his heart reminded Otacon that the world was still moving outside, even if Shadow Moses had stopped everything for them.

"Do you... do you ever think about FOXDIE?" Otacon asked, "I was thinking, maybe we could put aside a part of Philanthropy's – our new organization's – money to research a cure for it. No guarantees, of course, but we could try. There is hope, Dave."

"Hope." Snake pondered this in his warm daze, his hands absentmindedly tangling themselves in Otacon's soft, messy, graying hair. Otacon let out a soft involuntary groan. Snake cupped Otacon's face in his hands and pulled him up to look in his eyes. He saw conviction and strength there, a shining light that called to him, a rock to cling to in the ocean. Oh, he had been so wrong about Otacon when he had only thought of the vulnerable man hiding in the locker. This man possessed strength that he did not have.

Snake impulsively pulled Otacon close and kissed him, a deep, passionate, searching kiss. Otacon returned it with his own, timid at first, but then throwing what little caution he had left to the wind and kissing with all his soul. Snake was groping him then, reaching between his legs and caressing his cock as it grew erect for him.

"S...Snake?" Otacon moaned, but Snake silenced him with a kiss and there was no further protest. They were both pretty drunk, and deep down, they both needed each other's comfort; hands searching over each other, deep, probing kisses, sighs and licks and unearthly pleasures that were the most intimate that either of them had ever felt, yet it did not feel strange to them. It was just a continuation of the intimacy they had shared in Shadow Moses; seeing each other's deepest weaknesses and failings, helping each other through life and death situations. They might have thought about it, but they were lost in their search, kept warm and open by the alcohol, not questioning or caring about the fact that both of them were men. Snake mounted him in earnest; cock thrusting in and out of him, Otacon moaning and stroking himself as Snake fucked him. Otacon came first, his come covering his hands and the sheets and then Snake filled him with his seed, pumping him full of it as Otacon clutched at the sheets.

They were tired, and warm, and filled up and truly content and for the first time since Shadow Moses, Snake felt like a human being again.

They fell asleep like that, cradled in each other's arms, warm and safe and protected.

When Otacon woke, Snake was gone. He didn't realize for the first few seconds, so distant and full of warmth that he was, but then he felt coldness in the bed, an empty place where Snake should have been. Otacon snapped to awareness and sat up in bed. Snake was no longer there. The hotel notepad was in the bed next to him, a hastily scribbled note on it:

_I can't do this, Hal. Meryl needs me. I have to go back and give a life without war a second chance. I'm sorry, and I hope you find somebody to help you with Philanthropy. Thanks for listening._

_-Snake (Dave)_

Otacon was filled with a deep numbness. It had been a spur of the moment thing, he knew, they had needed each other, they were vulnerable and clung to each other in their hour of need, but Otacon had not expected any of this. He had contacted Snake to ask him about Philanthropy, but also because he had wanted to see him, but he hadn't expected them to end up having sex. Did Snake regret it? He must have done, he had Meryl, Otacon knew that and yet he had still barely protested, because he had wanted Snake's touch without even knowing he had wanted it all along. Had his subconscious plotted all along to lure him, ply him with alcohol and seduce him? He hoped not. The letter was not angry, at least; that meant that Snake did not feel that Otacon had taken advantage of him, he hoped.

Yet his hopes for Philanthropy lie in tatters. He knew even more so now that Snake was the only one for the job, the only person who Otacon had a deep enough bond with to trust him with his life and the destruction of Metal Gear. But he could not take him away from his life, if that was what he had chosen. He traced the dried come on the sheets with his finger as he contemplated this, feeling sore inside still where Snake had been. He felt empty now, like something was missing, because Snake was missing. He collapsed back onto the pillow and sought the solace of sleep. It could wait, it could all wait now, and maybe, just maybe, Snake would change his mind.

Snake felt like an asshole on the flight home. Otacon had offered him everything; something to fight for, everything to live for, and a deep comfort in the joining of their bodies. He tried not to think about the previous night, as guilt racked him. Would it even be possible to save his and Meryl's relationship now? He had used both of them, and he had nothing to show for it but confusion.

The trolley came around and he refused alcohol; he knew he had to kick the habit that had caused him so many problems if he was going to have any chance of leading a normal existence. He sipped at the tasteless water and was thankful at least that he didn't have a hangover; he had drunk and lost some of his inhibitions, but it had mostly been his own weakness that had led to last night's encounter. He was filled with regret for punching Otacon and leading him on, but could not bring himself to regret the intimacy they had shared. Deep down, they had needed it, and it had taken a great weight off his shoulders. He hoped that it had released Otacon as well from Shadow Moses, and he would be able to get on with his life, whether he fought Metal Gears or not.

He prayed silently that he had not just simply offloaded his problems onto Otacon.

Three months passed. Things had improved slightly with Meryl, but they were not the same. The guilt from cheating on her made it hard for him to have sex with her and they rarely bothered trying any more, and she seemed distracted. They didn't argue any more, though, and Snake had taken the hard liquor to town and sold it, exchanging it for beer he could drink one at a time in the evening with few drunken effects. She had stopped talking about Shadow Moses, although she did train with her gun more often, perhaps, Snake thought, as an outlet for her emotions.

Snake sat in his favorite chair by the fire, one of his Huskies lazing in front of it, reading the paper. Even though he had isolated himself, he still read the paper to see what was going on in the world. Meryl opened the door and came in from chopping firewood.

"What do you want for dinner?" she asked, sounding tired.

"I'll cook," said Snake. He was quite a good cook, and he felt Meryl should have a rest. She had been good to him after all; she never asked questions about what had happened in New York or why he had returned a different man, and he was grateful for that. She had stayed with him despite all he had done to her, and he felt he owed her for that.

They ate a simple meal of soup and hard bread, and Meryl retired to bed. Snake was determined to finish the paper before turning in, and sat down and continued where he had left off. His eyes widened when he turned the page and saw the next article:

_Dr Hal Emmerich, of U.N. funded anti- nuclear proliferation organization Philanthropy, is to appear to make a speech at the Scientists Against Nuclear Weapons Conference in LA on September 25th. Emmerich is a highly respected scientist who in the past has worked on weapons systems..._

Snake took a deep breath in. Next to the article was a picture of Otacon, looking healthy but tired. He felt a deep sense of guilt that he had not been there to help Otacon with his organization, and felt a wish to be at the conference, just to hear Otacon talk. Perhaps to meet him, and apologize for sneaking away in the middle of the night. He knew he shouldn't go, but he tore the page out of the paper to consider it, and threw the rest onto the fire before going to bed.

Another day, another flight, Snake mused. Meryl had not been happy about Snake's sudden and unexplained trip to Los Angeles; she had wanted a reason and why not? Yet Snake found he couldn't tell her, even though he knew he could easily make up a viable explanation based around the truth. She'd bitten her tongue, however, and let him go, perhaps figuring each trip away might send him back a little bit better, more normal, more accessible and open to her.

He didn't even know what he would say to Otacon when he got there. He still could not offer himself to Philanthropy, he knew that, but he had to go anyway, to see what Otacon had to say, to see how he was doing, and to apologize if he could find the words. He hoped that perhaps Otacon would tell him to go away, to leave him alone, so he could obtain closure on the whole thing and go back to Meryl and be content knowing it was the only option he had left. There he was again, he thought, having all his life's decisions made for him. Perhaps that was just the way men like him were.

He landed, and checked into his hotel, then made for the convention center where the conference was taking place. He'd booked tickets as a Dr. David Iroquois, and hoped his science would be good enough to bluff if required; the convention was for scientists only, after all. Still, there was only one person he wanted to hear speak, so he hoped there would be no problems.

Finding the conference hall, he sat and waited. He knew he was an hour early, but he hoped that Otacon would be there early to set up or something. He wasn't, and soon Snake was surrounded on all sides by scientists who wanted to discuss nuclear physics. He was saved from a particularly sticky question when Otacon came out onto the stage and began to talk. He was fluent, eloquent and confident, something Snake never would have expected from the timid scientist who had pissed himself in Shadow Moses. He spoke with conviction about nuclear weapons in the world, and Snake found himself nodding in agreement. He realized that Otacon had that conviction in his voice because he was doing something he truly believed in. A flashback took him back to Grey Fox's final words "At least I always fought for what I believed in." Otacon was fighting. What was he doing?

Meryl cleaned the cabin with a sigh. If only Snake would let her in on the things he was doing. It was true he had come home from New York a different man, but he was still closed off from her. She wanted him to confide in her, to tell her something, anything, but he was a closed book to her. She had given up hope and focused herself on a personal mission of her own; training herself to be a better soldier. She wanted to find out things about herself, her origins, what had happened to her father, even if it meant leaving Snake for a while and going to investigate.

As she cleared off the dresser, she saw a piece of newspaper folded up. She unfolded it, and signed as she remembered who Hal Emmerich was. She wondered why Snake had concealed it from her, as he was obviously attending the conference. What was the big secret? Was Snake confiding in Otacon about Shadow Moses instead of her? What was Philanthropy really about, and was Snake involved with it?

"Metal Gear!" she realized allowed, "It's got to have something to do with Metal Gear!"

The speech ended, and went to questions. Hal fielded a bunch of questions from scientists wanting to know more specifics about Philanthropy, and lots of funding questions from members of the media, who were curious about anything the U.N. were doing.

Finally, Snake raised his hand. Otacon took the question without even really looking.

"What inspired you to start up Philanthropy?" Snake asked.

Recognizing the deep timbre of his voice, Otacon looked at him and did a double-take. He faltered, then composed himself and answered the question.

"I worked on some research I'm not proud of, and realized that science can just as easily be used for evil as it can for good. I started Philanthropy because I realized we need to stop building nuclear weapons that can fall into the hands of terrorists and rogue states."

There was clapping from among the scientists and the journalists quickly scribbled down that quote into their notebooks; Snake simply nodded.

The presentation over, the scientists and journalists hurried away to find the next presentation. Otacon had an entourage of staff around him which he seemed eager to dismiss. Snake sat still, unsure of how to proceed. He didn't want to draw attention to himself by walking up to Otacon, but he felt suspicious just sitting around, too. Eventually he heard Otacon tell everyone they could go, and they scurried off like mice.

Otacon slowly walked down the steps and sat in the seat next to Snake. "Hey," he said.

"Hi," Snake replied lamely, "I suppose you wonder what I'm doing here."

"Yeah, I was going to ask," replied Otacon, "How about we go somewhere more comfortable. I'm not sure it's very private here."

"Good idea," said Snake.

They hailed a taxi outside the convention center and went to Otacon's hotel. The taxi ride was silent, both of them mulling over their thoughts. Snake wondered what he would say to Otacon, now that he was actually here. Otacon wondered why Snake had come at all, but was happy to see him nonetheless.

It was another hotel room, with a nice view across the city, Snake thought, as he perched himself on the edge of the bed.

"Drink?" Otacon offered, and Snake took a beer to ease his nerves. He took a couple of sips, and Otacon sat in the chair across from him. Snake supposed he wasn't about to make the same mistake as before. There was a pregnant silence, as Snake tried to form the words in his mind.

"I guess... I came all this way to apologize," Snake said, "I shouldn't have left you like that, Otacon. I feel like I took advantage of you."

"You didn't," Otacon replied, "We needed it. I don't know how you feel about it, but I have no regrets."

"You're doing pretty well, I see," Snake said.

"Yeah, I guess..." Otacon said, "Most of it is just talk, though. We still haven't found a decent action man."

"Haven't, or won't?" Snake asked.

"Well, the position is filled, but the man doesn't want the job." Otacon said, "So I guess I'm going to have to flick through Soldier of Fortune after all." He sounded a little bitter, and Snake regretted that tone. He had done this to Otacon, and he hadn't come to provide a fix, either.

"You know I can't... Meryl would never accept me going back to war..." Snake said.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Otacon replied, "I can't make your decisions for you. I'd never forgive myself if I guilt tripped you into this and you died out there. You'd be the one taking all the risks, after all, so it's not fair for me to expect you to do it. It has to be something you really believe in, or you're just throwing your life away... I don't want that."

"I know," said Snake, "I've been thinking a lot about it. There's not a day goes by when I don't think about it."

"Why did you come out here?" Otacon asked, handing Snake another beer.

"I saw you in the paper," Snake said, "It said you had received U.N. funding. I wanted to see how you were doing, so I came out here. Impressive stuff, especially that last quote. People just eat up terrorism these days."

"I don't know Snake," Otacon said, "I hate this public relations stuff. I can't tell anybody about what we really do, since every single thing about Shadow Moses is classified information, especially Rex. I can't talk about Metal Gear at all. I feel like I'm blowing out a load of useless hot air. Meanwhile, I have data of at least 3 Metal Gears in production around the world, based on the Rex specification, and I'm helpless to do anything. I just wonder if all this is a waste of time."

"I don't think so," replied Snake, "I think you're doing good work, Otacon."

"Thanks," said Otacon, "You know Snake, I've missed you." It just came out too easily. He'd wanted to conceal his feelings and ended up wearing his heart on his sleeve, revealing his vulnerability to Snake again. How could he help it? He had missed Snake, every single day since that fateful day in the hotel room, three months ago.

"I guess I should go," Snake said, "I'm just making things harder for you. I didn't come here to join up with you or make anything better; I just came to erase my own guilt at leaving you behind. I think it's best if I go back to Alaska and don't bother you again." Snake made for the door with steely resolve; it had been wrong to come here. The thing is, he wanted to join Philanthropy. He wanted to drop everything and work with Otacon and leave Meryl, but he was too much of a coward to face going on a mission again, even for the right cause.

Otacon stood up as Snake reached the door. He knew if Snake left now, he would never see him again. He would disappear from the face of the Earth; answer no mail, move away, do anything to avoid him, because it was what he was good at. The truth was, Otacon didn't want him to go, not then, not ever. He'd been clinging to the memory of their drunken lovemaking like a sacred text, using it to give him strength to do all the things he had done. He wanted to believe, deep down, that Snake really cared for him, but he honestly had no idea. Perhaps Snake really did love Meryl after all, and he had just been a mistake. But he had to know.

"I love you, Dave," he said. Snake stopped and turned around with a shocked expression on his face.

"I guess this is the part where you say it was a drunken mistake," Otacon followed up, "But it wasn't for me. I knew what I was doing and I loved every second of it, even if it was wrong for you to be here. Shadow Moses did something to me, Snake. I loved Wolf, I really did, but at the same time, I loved you too. Even though we were in the bowels of Hell, you still showed a compassion and decency that touched me. When I asked you about love, it wasn't just about Wolf. I wanted to know what you would say. And... and the way you helped her, Snake, when she was in pain... and Snake, I... when you were tortured, I heard your screams and it was torture for me, too. I hated the fact that I was such a coward that all I could bring you was that ketchup..."

Then Snake's arms were around him, his lips were on Otacon's, silencing him. Strong arms guided him to the bed and lay him down like a virgin bride. Calloused hands brushed through his hair as he was subjected to passionate, bruising kisses which he ate up like a starving man. Snake's hands reached up under his t-shirt and pulled it off over his head, knocking his glasses off center. Otacon righted them and went back to Snake, pulling his shirt off. Snake got off the bed and let his jeans slide onto the floor, and climbed back on to remove Otacon's. They were both hard, and they rubbed against each other, moaning at the shared pleasure.

"Oh God, Dave," Otacon moaned, "please..."

Snake flipped him over and cursed at the fact that these encounters were so spontaneous; spit would have to suffice for lube again. He entered Otacon slowly, even though he was begging and pleading with him to go faster. He built up speed, thrusting in and out of Otacon, while Otacon ripped at the sheets, rolling his hands up into fists at the intense pleasure. It didn't take long for him to climax, and Snake chuckled through a moan, "Easy tiger." He sped up, thinking of only his own pleasure now, and came inside Otacon.

"Sorry," Otacon whispered, "A bit too excited there."

"It happens," Snake said, "Don't sweat about it. You were good."

Otacon glowed inside, but he knew he had to ask the burning question.

"Snake, tell me you'll stay this time..."

Snake didn't answer, and Otacon fell asleep before he could protest.

When Otacon woke to an empty bed yet again, he was angry. "Damn it!" he said out loud to the walls, "I'm such an idiot!" He punched his fists down on the bed. He felt stupid and used. He looked for the inevitable note, but there was none. Snake had not even given him that much.

He showered and went back to the conference; while he wanted to stay in his hotel room and tell the world to go away, he still had two more days of talks to give. He looked for Snake in the audience, but no luck. Even though he was angry, he would have given anything for Snake to show up at his hotel room door, but he knew it wasn't going to happen. Snake had gone back to Alaska to play house with Meryl, and delude himself that things were wonderful between them. He wondered if Meryl had any idea that Snake was such a user.

The second evening came, and Otacon packed up his things, ready to return to New York the next morning. He had an apartment there now, and intended to get on with his job and forget about Snake. There were other people who could do the job, he was sure, if he just looked around. He had wasted enough time trying to fill the job with someone who wasn't interested.

He sat on the bed and buried his head in his hands.

Snake stood outside the door and knocked, once, twice. It had been a frantic twenty-four hours for him. He had flown back to Alaska and sat Meryl down. She had pulled out the piece of newspaper and asked him why he never talked to her any more. He said it was because he couldn't adapt to the peacetime life. Life for him, he explained, was one battle to the next. She looked resigned as he explained his intention to join Philanthropy.

"But you'll come back, right?" she asked.

"I don't think so, Meryl," he said, "This isn't working out for us. In Shadow Moses, we needed each other in order to survive. But outside that environment, we really have very little in common." He hated lying like this, but he knew he also didn't know the real truth of it, why somehow the bond he had forged with Otacon had grown stronger and the bond with Meryl had faded away. Perhaps it was because Otacon had not expected anything of him after Shadow Moses, whereas Meryl had a preset notion of what she wanted things to be like. He didn't really understand it.

"But you have something in common with Hal?" Meryl asked, throwing the scrap of newspaper into the fire, "We could have fought together, if you'd just asked. Maybe I would have come to Philanthropy with you. But you treated me like a rookie and locked me out of everything that you did."

"You've been training," Snake said, "I have no doubt that you have something in mind with those skills, and I doubt it was Philanthropy, which you've only just heard of."

"That's right, Dave," Meryl admitted, "I was going to leave anyway. I want to find my father. I'm not sure I understand what's going on, why we ended up like this, but I agree it's not working. I don't know if you wanted to protect me by keeping things from me, but I'm not a child, Dave. How can anybody have a relationship without honesty?"

So Meryl left quickly. The few things she had she packed up and took with her, and went into town. Snake never asked where she was going, and she never told him. He regretted the way they were parting ways, but it was inevitable, perhaps from the moment their bond was forged. She wanted a life that he couldn't give her, because she wanted the excitement of battle, but would always expect him to be able to protect her. Otacon had already shown that he could get on and do things on his own, that he knew that Snake was not invincible, that he might die out there.

So Snake stood outside the hotel room door, juggling several gun cases and a backpack of his basic possessions. He'd paid a local man a handsome sum to keep the cabin going and told him he could use it whenever he wanted; he doubted he would ever return there, and assumed eventually the man would take ownership.

Otacon opened the hotel room door, wet and naked except for a bathrobe. "Snake!" he said, "What on Earth is going on?"

"I've come to join Philanthropy, if the offer's still open," Snake said. Otacon ushered him into the room and helped him bring the gun cases in.

"Why did you go?" Otacon said, "You could have left a note! I was so angry with you!"

"I had a few loose ends to tie up, Hal. It wasn't fair to keep stringing Meryl along. I ended it with her. It seems she was planning on going away anyway."

"I see," replied Otacon, "You didn't have to be so cloak and dagger about it."

"I know," replied Snake, "but your indignation was funny."

"Hey!" Otacon said, "Just for that I want you to dress up in your Sneaking Suit before we have sex."

"Kinky," Snake replied, and for the first time since Shadow Moses, he laughed.

_Fin_


End file.
